fleets of inquisition
hurl osier baskets of woven sacrilege on our shores—
alas! in bungalow rifts,
sniffing the talc that you feed me,
you set my skin ablaze.
from your ivory lips drip pride,
from ours: shame.
we all burn under the same scorching sun,
we all bleed blood of the same hue,
but what happened to our kinship, brother?
do not travesty me.
from my golden lotus feet,
backed against the silent willow,
i stand, arms open.
eurocentrism is quaint.
This piece connects to the century of humiliation and the opium wars. While it reveals such dark times in Chinese history, this poem is about reclamation and Asian American pride, for we are "still here."
Amy Liu is a 16-year-old poet based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, who is passionate about leading social activism via print and braille poetry. Her work has been featured by Her Culture, National Braille Press, and more. You can find her on instagram at @amyyliuu.